Inside My Head

the literary rantings of Angie Frissore

The Taco Perspective

I sniffed earnestly at the  ground, desperately trying to convince the Provider that I still had business to tend to outdoors.  This was, by far, my least favorite part of the day – we would go upstairs, Provider would lovingly give me a snack and perhaps some affection, and then she’d leave.  Just like that.

I had always hoped that I’d get used to it eventually, but I still get the moment of panic every time she grabs those little noisy shiny things she uses to lock the door.  What if she wasn’t just leaving for eight hours and then returning? What if this time…she didn’t come back?

I felt a tug as the Provider called out my name.

“Taco, come on baby!”

Damn.  She was on to me.  Realizing I could not drag the adventure out any longer, I turned and trotted back to her as she headed for the inside.


Shouldn’t be long now.  Once the color box starts to sound like other animals, I’ve figured out that it’s only a matter of 30 minutes or so until the Provider comes home.  I waited anxiously at the window, carefully scouring the outside for her automobile.  I desperately needed to tell her that today, there were cows in the color box.  Cows! I needed to know the secrets of getting cows into the color box.

Pacing around the room, I took inventory of the remaining bits of snack which were laying about, noting which ones I would devour first upon the Provider’s return.  I didn’t like to eat the snacks when I was alone – there would be no one to witness that I had run out of snacks, and thus, no one to replenish them.  I spied a large chunk of snack (the peanut butter hard kind) positioned near the exit.

I’m watchin’ you.  Once she gets home, I’m all over you.  You shall be first.

Suddenly, I heard the familiar pitch of the Provider’s automobile and I ran to the glass, for a moment fearing I would push my nose right through it.  The moment had finally come – she came back.

As the Provider disappeared out of sight, I sprinted for the exit.  There was so much to tell her, so much to catch her up on.  I paced around the exit until the metal shiny thing rattled the handle.

“Hi baby!! Mama’s home!” the Provider said cheerfully.  Some days, it seemed as though (however impossible) she missed me more than I missed her.  I often wondered where she went that could be worse than my days alone.

There was a time once where I got to see where she went.  For awhile, she would take me with her in the mornings and I actually got to hang out with her all day.  From what I could tell, aside from getting to play with other humans, there didn’t seem to be a whole lot that she couldn’t do at home, with me.  But none of that mattered now…

That squirrel tried to make the jump again today to the plants you told me to protect.  It must of heard my barking because it stopped and looked at me and I managed to scare it off so it didn’t try to get your plants.  Then, I heard baby puppies on the color box but suddenly there were cows – COWS in the color box!! They really shouldn’t do that because it kinda  freaked me out to be honest and I started looking all over this place for the cows and I couldn’t find them but I could still hear them.  Let’s go outside now!!!

“Is that right?” The Provider asked.  “Are you telling me stories?”  Someday I would find away to get her to understand me when I talk.  I’ve learned to understand most of what she says to me, so really, it’d be the least she could do, right?

The Provider reached down to fasten my harness (which was blue, for whatever reason, and made everyone think I was a boy) as I tried to contain my excitement.  It’d been almost nine hours since I’d gotten the update at the Rocks, and soon I’d find out if that Doberman actually scored with that slut puggle after all.


October 3, 2008 - Posted by | Uncategorized | ,

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